


Demonstration

by selfreliantscientist



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen, M/M, Non-Sexual Bondage, Unrequited Love, Weird Night Vale Scout Badges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:10:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1648166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selfreliantscientist/pseuds/selfreliantscientist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil volunteers to be a prisoner for the Boy Scouts to tie up and interrogate so they can hone their skills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demonstration

“Do you believe your prisoner is adequately secured, Lorenzo?”

The Boy Scout hesitated, hands lingering on the last knot, before he nodded.

“Okay then,” the Scoutmaster continued, “Let’s check. Cecil, can you free yourself?”

Bound to a wooden chair, the radio host strained against the ropes holding him in place. One arm shifted, and after a minute or two, Cecil’s right hand slipped out of its restraint.

“That’s enough for now, Cecil,” said Earl, and Cecil relaxed. “Once a prisoner has a hand free, they have as good as escaped already. Lorenzo, you’re going to have to spend some time practicing at home if you want to earn your Prisoner Restraint Badge. But let’s move on to interrogation techniques. Franklin, would you please finish securing the prisoner for us?”

The newly-minted Blood Pact Scout came forward, expertly tying the knot that Lorenzo had faltered over.

“Nice work,” Earl observed. “Although I should remind you all that, in the field, your prisoners will not be nearly as cooperative as Mr. Palmer. Now, Franklin, please demonstrate the correct method for administering sodium pentothal.”

Franklin picked up a syringe from the table, carefully examining it for problems before he stuck it into Cecil’s neck with trained precision.

“Very good,” said Earl. “Even if Mr. Palmer possessed working pain receptors, I doubt he would have felt more than a pinch. You can sit down now, Franklin.

“Everyone. The field trip to earn your Prisoner Restraint badges and your Interrogation badges is next week. Your parents will have to sign permission slips for all of you if you are going to attend. Mr. Palmer knows where the permission slips are. Your parents will be here in an hour to pick you up. The sodium pentothal will wear off some time before then. Be careful; if the prisoner is clever, you might not be able to tell when he is clear of the drug’s influence. I recommend that you find the permission slips before it wears off. Also bear in mind that, since your prisoner cannot feel pain, you will have to resort to psychological means of intimidation and persuasion. You may begin your interrogation… now.”

Earl sat to the side while his boys surrounded Cecil, shouting so many questions at once that none of them could be understood. Amidst the cacophony, Cecil kept his mouth shut. Not that the Scouts would be able to hear his answers anyway, until they quieted down. Hopefully they’d come to understand the first lesson of interrogation soon: Work _with_ your allies, not against them.

It was Franklin who stood aside and signaled, through a series of stomps on the ground, for everyone to halt what they were doing. “We won’t get anywhere if we all talk at once,” he told the other Scouts. “One question at a time. Everyone form a line.”

The Scouts obeyed, lining up so that each of them would have a turn to question the prisoner. Franklin let the others in front of him, taking a place in the back. The kid was a natural leader. He didn’t need to squabble over position to know that they took him seriously. Earl couldn’t for the life of him figure out why Franklin wasn’t prophesied to be the next Scoutmaster.

The group’s interrogation technique was sloppy. Most of the boys weren’t paying attention to the questions the other ones asked. Several questions were repeated, and the few Scouts with a clear idea of what they were doing wound up each running their own interrogation, progressing bit by bit each time their turn came around instead of building on what the others had established.

If Cecil were determined to keep his information secret, there’s no way the boys would have been able to get it out of him, even with the sodium pentothal. Cecil had been a Scout himself, after all, and once upon a time he’d been better at withstanding interrogation than Earl. But he cooperated now, being just reticent enough to give the boys a challenge, to force them to ask the right questions with the right level of persistence.

After a few minutes, some of the older boys started comparing notes, and the Scouts finally started acting as a team. They figured out that the permission slips were somewhere in this room, that they would have to undo a lock to get at them, but that they would not need a key.

Earl knew exactly what that meant, but apparently none of these Scouts had discovered the secret supply closet.

Toward the back of the room, one wooden panel in the wall was loose. When slid out of the way, it revealed a latch, and when the latch was undone, an adjacent portion of the wall swung open, revealing a small space that was used to store a few spare pieces of equipment.

Earl had discovered it when he was a Cub Scout, and it had become his hiding place until he was too big to fit comfortably any more. Sometimes Cecil would hide there with him. On one occasion, the librarians had become loose on the streets of Night Vale, and Cecil had been so scared that he’d clung to Earl for hours while they waited for the all-clear siren. Cecil had whimpered and sobbed until Earl got him to calm down, rubbing his hands along his back and whispering reassurances. It was one of Earl’s fondest memories.

The Scouts got an idea of what to look for, and they scattered, each finding a different section of the wall to examine. The lucky Scout turned out to be Kai, who nearly stumbled when he tried to put his weight on the sliding panel. The other boys were all so preoccupied with the search that they didn’t notice the misstep, though Earl saw it clearly. Kai covered for it, calling everyone over as he opened the door and clearly telegraphing victory through the tone of his voice. He picked up the stack of permission slips and triumphantly distributed one to each of the Scouts.

“Congratulations,” said Earl, standing up to approach his gathered scout troop. “You’ll all need to get your parent or guardian’s signature before we leave next week. And, Kai, close that door, please.” He kept any admonishment out of his tone. His boys knew better than to leave secret doors standing open; they’d just been excited and forgotten.

Earl told everyone what they should expect on the field trip, and advised them to practice because the real thing would be much more difficult than this session had been. A few Scouts had questions, and Earl answered them until parents had arrived and taken all of his troop members home. A few of the parents waved to Cecil, and some commented on the quite professional-looking ropework that bound him.

Then the parents and the scouts were gone, leaving only Earl and a captive Cecil in the room. At times, Earl fantasized about just such a situation.

“How are you holding up, Cecil?”

“Pretty well, I think,” Cecil replied.

Earl walked back to the front of the room. Cecil looked content, and comfortable. The Scouts had been careful to keep the ropes tight enough to prevent movement, but not so tight as to stop blood circulation.

“Thank you for doing this,” said Earl.

Cecil smiled. “Anytime.”

Earl leaned down and gave Cecil a chaste kiss while he considered what to do next. The night was young. He could, if he chose, take Cecil home. Throw the broadcaster over his shoulder and carry him to a familiar place where Earl could have his way with him. Cecil would be willing, enthusiastic even.

But Cecil would be just as happy to spend the night alone. Cecil didn’t _need_ Earl. He didn’t yearn for Earl’s company the way Earl yearned for his. No matter what they did tonight, Cecil would greet Earl with the same smile and platonic hug the next time they saw each other. It had taken years for Earl to figure out that Cecil considered sex just another thing they could do together as friends.

As Earl undid the knots that kept Cecil immobile, he said “See you at League Night tomorrow?”

“Sure thing,” said Cecil, flexing his newly freed wrist. He may not have had the ability to experience pain, but he could still become stiff after being immobile for a significant period of time. “Just make sure your boys know which lane to aim at, okay? One of them nearly took my head off last week.”

“Don’t worry,” Earl replied, “Kyle won’t be there this time.”

Maybe if he’d realized sooner that Cecil’s feelings for him didn’t extend past friendship, Earl would have been able to pull back, to stop himself from falling irrevocably in love. He’d tried, a few times, to establish relationships with other people. Whenever he spent time romantically with someone else, he found himself wishing he was with Cecil. Those relationships hadn’t lasted long. It didn’t seem fair to be with another person if he couldn’t give them his heart.

That was, after all, what Cecil had done with him. Earl could never figure out just how resentful to be about it.

Once Cecil was free, Earl took his hand to help him up. Cecil staggered, briefly, and Earl put a hand to his chest to steady him.

“You okay?” Asked Earl.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I just needed a moment.” Then Cecil smiled at Earl, warm and friendly like always. That smile was so damn beautiful. In that moment, Earl almost lost his resolve. He thought about asking Cecil to come home with him, and decided it was a pretty good idea. Before he said anything, though, Cecil was walking away, Earl’s hands still warm from where they’d touched him. “Until tomorrow, then!” Said Cecil.

Earl waved, watching the door close behind his friend. “Until tomorrow.”


End file.
